


peppermint smile, forgotten confession.

by tofhoney



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, JISUNG JUST WANTED TO KISS MINHO DAMNIT, Kissing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, minho: kiss? what's that? a type of sauce?, sungie: let me kiss you?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofhoney/pseuds/tofhoney
Summary: Minho's caught up in his past. Jisung tries to kiss it better.





	peppermint smile, forgotten confession.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by nct dream's [1, 2, 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9tdobRm9LY).
> 
> i couldn't stop thinking about that song all day, and this happened.
> 
> (i'm not complaining, it was nice to write.)
> 
>  
> 
> **leave a comment + a kudo if you liked this! i'd be appreciative if you left me feedback, it would help a lot. ♡**

Minho hadn’t tried to shy from the conversation, but he admitted that he’d been hesitant to breach the subject. Now, though, it was too late. ( _Too late_ was overly used in Minho’s life, and he supposed that it was high time to fix that. Then again: Minho was used to being sheltered. He was used to the word “hiatus” rather than “elimination.” But Jisung… Jisung wasn’t the type of person to sugarcoat his anger, to dunk his pain into a metaphorical glass of milk and hope it tasted sweet.)

“You’re back,” Jisung said. He was much the same from when Minho had left, but there was no trace of the sunken-cheeked boy with a crooked smile hidden inside Jisung’s new body. He was stronger, wider. He was warm chocolate that tasted bitter on Minho’s tongue. He regretted not being there to see him grow.

“I’m back,” Minho echoed. It hurt to say the phrase. He was back. _This_ was back.

 _Back_ was not what he expected.

 _Back_ was a dream. It was hidden in the corner of his mind, coated with dust and disappointment. Back was something Felix deserved, something Minho hadn’t thought about until his PD had asked to see him. Sitting at that table, feeling oh-so-small in front of the one man who could destroy him, who could _save_ him… the thought brought anxiety rushing to his head.

Jisung pressed his arm around Minho’s waist and pulled him closer. He smelled like Jisung: body spray, sweat, and something that reminded him distinctly of home. Minho clutched at his shoulder, drinking him in like his own metaphorical glass of milk. _Back_ was Jisung.

“Don’t leave,” Jisung said, as if Minho had a choice. They were alone, Minho pressed against the counter’s smooth surface and Jisung’s face buried in his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Minho replied, cheesily.

“You know what I mean,” Jisung murmured. “Don’t leave us. I know what you’re thinking.”

How did Jisung know Minho so well? Minho himself hadn’t been able to clutch at the thread of what he’d been thinking until Jisung had said it. Jisung thought that Minho wanted to leave.

Minho didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon. He may have felt that he was unworthy of Jisung’s affection, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t willing to try harder. “Leave? And let you learn the choreography by yourself?”

Jisung laughed. Minho swallowed around his next phrase, hoping that the younger boy didn’t see the way it bobbed down his throat. _I love you_ , he wanted to say. But this was too soon. He imagined that Jisung had moved on from that.

( _That_ being the kiss. It was one kiss, placed directly over Minho’s bottom lip. Jisung had been delirious with fear, pulling Minho into his embrace and smushing his face with his own. Minho had laughed it off – “ _Do you really like hyung that much?”_ – yet he knew that Jisung, wonderful Jisung, was like summer. Warm, beautiful while it lasted, but when it was over, he was left with a sense of emptiness.)

“What is it?” Jisung asked.

Minho smiled.  _That_ smile, vulnerable, and Jisung saw right through it.

“What?”

“I’m happy I’m back.” This was enough, for now. It was enough to tide Minho over until he became insatiable, hungry with the desire to taste Jisung again. Already, he felt himself itching to kiss him, hand tightening over his shoulder to push him away.

Jisung frowned. “You don’t seem happy to see me.”

“I am.”

Jisung leaned in. His gaze darted down to Jisung’s smile, and the younger boy smirked. “Ah, so that’s why you’re not happy.”

Minho swallowed. He felt his throat dry up, and he wished that Chan might walk in on them. “W-What are you saying, Jisung?” he stuttered.

“ _I’m_ not saying anything. Not until you say something.” Jisung leaned closer. His mouth brushed over Minho’s, not kissing him, but giving him a taste of what he could’ve done. Minho made a sound in the back of his throat.

“What do you need me to say,” Minho breathed. It wasn’t a question.

Jisung was silent. His hand found the back of Minho’s neck and pulled him closer. Jisung’s breath smelled like peppermint, and his gaze glittered with excitement. “Hyung,” he began, “I’m not going crazy. This is really happening.”

“I’m not sure _what’s_ happening, Jisungie,” Minho replied, licking across his bottom lip. It was dry and cracked, and it tasted like nothing. He wondered why Jisung wanted to kiss him.

“Why? Because I like you, hyung.”

“Do you like another hyung like this, too?”

Jisung smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It said too much for the little space between them, and too little for Minho to reply to. “No. Only this hyung.”

Jisung was closer. His mouth ghosted over Minho’s, pressing an indent of what a kiss might feel like.

Minho was beginning to become frustrated. Jisung had taken him on a roller-coaster of emotion, starting with pain and ending with something like annoyance swirling in his gut. Minho leaned back.

Jisung growled, grabbing Minho’s waist with his second hand and pulling him back. He pressed his mouth to the side of Minho’s, and said, “Say it.”

“Jisung?”

Jisung looked up. His nose twitched, and his gaze remained dark. “Say you want me to stop, and I will.”

Minho frowned. “What gave you that idea?”

“You pulled away.”

“Because you wouldn’t kiss me?”

Jisung blew air from out of his nose. “Idiot. I’m going to kiss you now.”

Minho stared at him. Jisung laughed.

They kissed. Jisung tasted like toothpaste with an aftertaste of too-sweet soft drink, and he was less trying to kiss Minho, more trying to devour him. Minho laughed into his mouth, pressed himself closer to Jisung and lead him into it. Minho had kissed one person before, and while he wasn’t any good himself, Jisung was worse. Minho pulled back, giggling. “All this buildup, and you’re a horrible kisser?”

Jisung pouted. “I’ve never tried it before.”

Minho smiled. He leaned back down and pressed his mouth harder onto Jisung’s, let the younger boy taste his split lip and the milk he’d drank earlier. Jisung grabbed Minho’s waist and pulled him down, trying to lean over him when he was an inch shorter. Minho quirked an eyebrow as Jisung pulled away, grinning.

“I think you need practice.”

“You can teach me, then,” Jisung replied, wiggling his body in a way that was supposed to look attractive, but looked stupid instead.

“On second thought, no.”

“Minho!”

Minho kissed him again. He licked off the honey lipbalm the younger boy had been wearing and smiled when Jisung squealed. “You have a lot to learn, Sungie.”

Jisung grabbed his hand. (It reminded him of that other time, somewhere long ago, when Jisung had done the same. This was better. It was easier this way. Minho had someone who could pick him apart, piece by piece, know what he was thinking at a given moment, but could put him back together, too. For all the _too late_ s in Minho’s life, he was glad that this wasn’t one of them.)


End file.
